Eternal Joy And the ransomed
of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting
joy upon their heads. They shall obtain joy and gladness,
and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. Isaiah 35, verse 10. Believer, leave your rainbow
in the cloud behind you, and with your eye on the rainbow
round about the throne, think of the glad return of God's ransomed
ones to Zion. Every teardrop dried, every pang
forgotten. At once, wanderers in the wilderness,
in a solitary way, prisoners bound with affliction and iron,
mariners struggling in a tempest, mark the termination of their
checkered history. God is not only represented as
supporting their fainting souls, breaking to pieces their chains
and enabling them to buffet the angry surges, but He leads the
pilgrims to a city of habitation. He rescues the captives from
darkness and shadow of death. He brings the storm-tossed seamen
to their desired haven, and puts the everlasting song into the
lips of all. O that men would praise the Lord
for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children
of men! sorrowing one, tossed on life's
stormy sea. Soon will that peaceful haven
be yours. From the sunlit shores of glory
each and all of your trials will be seen to be special proofs
of your Heavenly Father's faithfulness, circled with a halo of love.
You may now be going forth weeping, bearing your precious seed, but
you shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing your
sheaves with you. As some seeds require to be soaked
in water before they germinate, so is immortal seed, often here,
soaked in tears. But those who sow in tears shall
reap in joy. Though weeping may endure for
the night, Joy comes in the morning. you are, says Rutherford, upon
the entry of heaven's harvest. The losses that I write of are
but summer showers, and the sun of the new Jerusalem shall quickly
dry them up. The song of the night shall then
blend with the song of the skies, and inner, glorious meanings
will be disclosed to sight which are now hidden from the eye of
faith. Sorrow and sighing shall forever flee away. No sickness,
no sorrow, no pain, said an aged saint, now entered on these glorious
realities. But this is only your negative. What, O God, must be your positive? Songs, everlasting joy, joy and
gladness. It will be song upon song, joy
upon joy, gladness upon gladness. These songs of heaven will be
songs of degrees. The ransomed will be ever graduating
in bliss, mounting from glory to glory, each song suggesting
the keynote of a louder and loftier one. Listener, are you mourning
the loss of those who are not, the music of whose voices is
hushed for the forever of time, and who have left you to travel
companionless and alone the wilderness journey? A few more fears, a
few more tears, and you shall meet them in the daybreak of
glory. No, more, they have but preceded
you to an earlier crown. If they have left you behind
for a little season to continue your night-song, think with bounding
heart of that eternal day, when, looking back on the clouds floating
in the far distance in the nether valley, you shall be able to
join in the anthem said to be sung by the twenty-four elders
as they gaze on the throne encircled by the rainbow of emerald. For
they rest not, day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord
God Almighty.